


Live for the Moment

by Felflowne



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Platonic Cuddling, Sexual Content, Spoilers, human!senketsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felflowne/pseuds/Felflowne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He isn't even sure that she realises it, precisely, but she's always more open with him when they're alone. She'll talk tentatively about her worries, her paranoia about what exactly she is, because he understands, and he knows her – Oh, so well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live for the Moment

It's the middle of the night. The air is cool but mild, and a breeze rolls in from an open window. Not that Ryuko Matoi notices or cares. She's fast asleep, sprawled our under her comforter, tiny snuffly snores escaping her.

Her companion is not asleep. Nor likely to be, any time soon.

“Ryuko.”

Ryuko groans.

There's a pause.

“Ryuko, please? I-”

Ryuko rolls over and fixes the person laying next to her with her best glare, spoiled somewhat by her being only half-conscious.

“W'z sleeping.”

“I know. I tried but I couldn't.”

“Guhh! Y'so _needy._ ”

“I know.”

She huffs a martyred sigh.

“Fiiiiine,” she grumbles, “but don' jostle me, 'm comfy.”

Ryuko shudders slightly from the draft as Senketsu lifts her comforter to move under it as well. Despite her previous grumbling, she sighs non-committally and smiles as he presses up against her, where her pyjamas have ridden up. He knows she understands, because they do this almost every night. He has terrible trouble sleeping when he's not touching her in some way, and she's patient about this, despite how she is with everything else.

“You know I _will_ kill you if you ever tell anyone about this. It's not like anyone else gets to freaking dogpile on me without an asskicking.” Her voice is drowsy but clear.

“Only me,” he mutters, bordering on smug - and curls closer to her, perfectly contented.

It's true. He knows that their relationship is starkly different to any of the other relationships she has. He isn't even sure that she realises it, precisely, but she's always more open with him when they're alone. She'll talk tentatively about her worries, her paranoia about what exactly she is, because he understands, and he knows her – Oh, so well. He knows she doesn't have anyone else she talks to the way she talks to him. Only he gets to see her like that. It makes him feel secure and wanted.

“Yeah,” he hears Ryuko mumble as he begins to drift off to sleep. “There's only you.”

**

Senketsu knows that Ryuko's early school life... kind of sucked. From what he's heard, not a whole lot of structure went on, and mainly a whole lot of fights and blinkered raging. That had been before they met. Ryuko talks about it sometimes, but not often. College life seems to be suiting her better.

She's always mentioning things like “living in the moment”, which initially had confused him, when she'd said it back during their first days together at Honnouji. Where else could people live? 

After the events that followed, Senketsu had begun to see how people could slide back into living in the past instead of the moment.

As for him, he's happy taking each day as it comes when it comes to life. He's happy just to be able to be here, by Ryuko's side. After all, as the shock and heat of atmospheric re-entry had ripped apart his Life Fibres, he'd thought he'd been done for. 

And in a way he had been, because when his scattered Fibres had been collected, they hadn't understood what shape they'd been supposed to be. He had seemed doomed to continue existence as something not unlike a huge ball of red twine, molested by the world's biggest kitten.

There had, however, been another shape they remembered. A human shape. Ryuko's.

He isn't sure why, then, he'd awoken in the shape of a human male. Even now, no one can account for it. That being said, everything about his current reasons for being alive are theoretical and full of unexplained details. He's content with his form. He feels it suits him.

So. Live for the moment. He's taking it to heart.

With varied success.

“Senketsu!” He turns, and isn't quite quick enough to sidestep Mako barrelling into him. Luckily, his weight is greater than hers and he remains standing. He still isn't really used to balancing, but luckily, the wall behind him helps.

“You are out early, Mako,” he says to her, and like always - when he speaks, she flaps her hands in excitement. She loves being able to hear his voice. It's really sweet how excited she gets.

“You don't have to come and meet me, you know.” 

That's Ryuko, walking up to them having been left behind Mako in the girl's mad scramble away from her and towards him. As they aren't alone, she's adopting her usual gruff demeanour. After all, they can't talk privately in public the way they used to. He can see a hint of a smile on her lips, despite her words. 

“I know I don't,” he replies calmly. “I like doing it.”

She makes some kind of nondescript sound of irritation at that, which he doesn't pay any mind. He takes a moment to look at her properly, her jacket shrugged on loosely, and her hair lifting gently in the breeze. She looks really good today.

He becomes aware of Mako still tugging at his arm.

“Ryuko!” She says brightly, “lemme borrow Senketsu for a minute, okay?”

The other girl rolls her eyes, but also looks a little confused.

“You don't have to ask _me_ , you dummy,” she says, and waves her hand dismissively.

To his own confusion, Senketsu finds himself dragged away, presumably so as to be out of Ryuko's earshot.

To his amazement, as soon as they are far enough away, Mako's expression turns sly. She punches him on his arm, lightly.

“So come on,” she whispers, “tell me everything.”

“That might take some time,” he replies, completely at sea. “Mako, I don't know _everything_ , or close to everyth-”

“I mean, what's it like living with Ryuko? Mako is jealous!”

“Mako, Ryuko lived with you for-”

“I _mean_ , I _mean_ , you get to snuggle with her.”

He gulps. It's not untrue, per se, but he feels there may be a misunderstanding if he were to tell Mako about how he likes to sleep. Especially if she knew the effect it occasionally has on him.

He knows that Ryuko has been as patient as she can - “it's a natural reaction!” she had yelped at him the first time, from the other side of the bedroom door – but he knows that it makes her uncomfortable. After it happens, Ryuko generally prefers to sleep apart from him for a few nights. He really hates that. 

He's not naïve, he understands the kind of things that some humans get up to together, and why his apparent sexual interest worries his friend. He hasn't really taken the time to process it fully. He knows about sex – the various acts interest him and he is curious, but the problem is, he doesn't really find humans, of any gender, attractive, so can't see how he will ever get to experience it. He presumes that this is because he hadn't originally been human. This does, however, make his occasional morning embarrassments even harder to explain away to himself.

“Our relationship is not like that,” he explains. “I am not really a human, I just look like one. Ryuko is my friend.”

Because she is. And he will gladly put up with the human embarrassment and the odd night spent alone to retain her friendship. He knows that normally, friends don't sleep tangled together the way they generally do, but he attributes that to the unusual nature of their previous relationship.

As he glances back over to where Ryuko is waiting, staring in their direction and chewing her lip, he feels the now familiar tug, urging him to move towards her, which has caused him so much trouble in recent months. A blush is threatening to creep up his neck. He wants to be Ryuko's friend. He doesn't want to drive her away. He wishes he could explain that to his body. 

Human television hasn't helped him, either. He'd accidentally switched onto an adult channel the first time he'd tried watching it, and had needed to spend the day inside, attempting not to imagine trying out some of the things he'd seen. Educational, but rather overwhelming. He'd suggested sleeping away from Ryuko on that particular night, just in case. The flash of disappointment he'd seen pass over her face had made him feel incredibly guilty, but it had probably been for the best. 

The oddest thing had been that the humans he'd watched hadn't excited him in the least, but something about the scenes he'd witnessed had got under his skin, like an itch. They'd given shape to his previously formless desires. And it's becoming more difficult to distract himself.

Mako is unashamedly grinning at him, like she can hear every thought. She steps closer.

“Oh? And you're okay with that? Being friends?”

“O-of course!” He stutters, “why wouldn't I be?”

She steps back. 

“I see. And Ryuko is happy, too?”

“I-I think so. She seems content.”

She does. She's happy with what they have, he knows that. And even if he did admit to himself (which he's trying not to) that perhaps he'd like to be able to get even closer to her, he's not a human. Humans have romantic relationships with other humans, not – whatever he is. 

As with everything else, he tells himself, he's happy as long as they are together. He's not going to let whatever pull he feels ruin that.

“Hmm.” Mako steps away again. “All right. Oh.”

She roots in her bag suddenly, and then triumphantly pulls out some strips of cardboard.

“Would you like to go to the movies with me? I have some tickets and I think you'll like the film.”

Senketsu is touched beyond words. And Ryuko always says, live in the moment.

“I would really like that,” he says, accepting one, “but... are you sure you don't want to go with Ryuko?”

Mako shook her head.

“I want to take you, because we're friends. And I want to get to know you better.” Her smile is brilliant and bright. “I'll meet you there at six, tonight? We can get something to eat after.”

He looks at her, smiles, and nods.

“Okay, Mako's got to go, need to run some errands at home. BYE RYUKO SEE YOU LATER!”

And in a cloud of dust, she's gone.

Senketsu wanders back over to Ryuko, still holding the piece of card from Mako. Ryuko notices it instantly.

“What's that?”

Senketsu puts it into the pocket of the jacket he's wearing.

“Mako has invited me to go and see a film with her.” He informs her proudly. 

Ryuko will no doubt be glad of some time away from him – he thinks. He knows that since adopting this shape he's been heavily reliant on her and very – as she puts it - “needy”. And perhaps some time away from her will allow him to properly distract himself from the little things he has started noticing about her recently, like how she fiddles with the hem of her clothes when she's uneasy, or the way her face is dazzling when she gives him one of her rare open smiles. He wonders if caring more for someone over time is normal, because he is sure he feels more strongly about Ryuko every day. He wonders idly if there's some kind of upper limit.

He turns to look at her, but her usually expressive face is oddly blank.

“Tonight?” She asks, finally, after they've walked a short distance.

“Yes,” he replies.

“You won't need dinner then,” she says dismissively after another pause. He blinks.

“Dinner is already in the refrigerator,” he reminds her gently, “I made it yesterday and there was too much, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she returns, sounding distracted.

They walk in silence for a few more steps.

“What are you going to wear?” Ryuko asks suddenly.

“Uh, probably this,” he replies, “is that wrong?”

“You don't want to dress up a little bit?”

He feels panicky.

“Should I?” He asks, and it comes out at a much higher pitch than he intends.

Ryuko huffs, and he gently touches the back of his hand to hers, a nervous habit he's retained from when he spent more time in his previous shape. She doesn't flinch away, but instead brushes back against his fingers, just like she always does.

“Have I made a mistake?” He asks. “Ryuko-”

“No!” She says, and the sharpness of her words causes him to yank his hand away from hers. She balls hers into a fist, almost unconsciously.

“No,” she repeats, “no... Shit. Sorry. you're fine. I just. I wondered if it was a... date, that's all.” The last part is all but inaudible.

She turns away, and he knows it's because she's blushing. He can feel his face colouring too, in response. He hadn't considered that. But even if it is, surely it would be a good idea to go anyway. Experiencing new things will enable him to learn more and become more independent.

He knows that Ryuko doesn't like discussing things like this. It falls into a huge gap in her experience. Nothing they went through together in the last year really prepared her for her life on the other side of saving the world. That doesn't mean she isn't meeting it head on. He's proud of her.

It's another reason he doesn't want to complicate things between them any further. He's done his best to be her touchstone, her support, as she's his. She's still self-conscious, prickly, defensive, aggressive, but he knows that he has the rare ability, shared maybe only with Mako, to calm and soothe her.

“I'm not sure,” he says, truthfully, and is surprised and concerned when her shoulders seem to hunch slightly.

“In any case,” she says suddenly, rounding on him, a strangely unfitting smile on her face, “I will do something with that mop you call hair. You're my room mate, I'm not having you show me up, date or no date!”

It's unexpected, out of character and oddly wooden, and he's so surprised that he doesn't even resist as she grabs his hand and starts dragging him down the road more quickly. 

*

Senketsu, despite his concerns, enjoys the movie with Mako. The sounds and colours are loud and vibrant. He doesn't really know what's going on, but there appears to be a shallow sort of love story tacked on at the end. He doesn't really follow it, but he watches the characters kissing with interest.

They emerge out of the theatre, blinking.

Mako takes them to a nearby food cart. He knows that this is her favourite way to eat. They pay for their own food and sit on a bench. It's dim, twilight's approaching fast.

Mako talks. She talks about everything and anything. About Ryuko. About him. About herself. He's happy to listen. He especially likes hearing about Ryuko, and the times she and Mako have spent together. Although present, he often had needed to reduce his awareness and consciousness to almost nothing to save energy, and had missed a lot.

“Mako?” He asks her in a rare pause, due to Mako having her mouth full, “is this a date?”

She swallows hurriedly then bursts into laughter, then burps abruptly, apparently surprising herself.

“Haha, no!” She crows, “this is a test!”

His heart sinks at her words – a test of what?

She chews for a moment, then says, “Senketsu, do you like Ryuko?”

“Very much,” he replies instantly. She laughs happily.

“Good!” She says, and returns to her food. 

He hesitates, wondering if that particular conversation is now over, and just as he decides it probably is, she suddenly speaks again, chattily saying, “I know that she likes you very, VERY, much. Maybe even more than Mako. But Mako's not going to cry about it!”

Senketsu blinks.

“That makes me very happy to hear,” he says, finally. And it does, warming him inside like nothing he's felt before. “But I don't think she likes me more than she likes you, Mako.”

She waves her hand dismissively.

“It's different, I understand, yes. Yes I do. Mako knows that you both could get up to perverted things when she's not around to keep Ryuko under control!”

He colours, gasping for breath suddenly.

Keeping Ryuko under control? What did she mean?

He turns, and she's watching him, making him even more nervous.

“Ohoho,” she says wickedly, “I'm surprised by your red face, Senketsu! Ryuko's just a normal girl, after all. She has things she wants. She's naughty, Mako knows!”

He looks down, thoughts suddenly whirling off in all directions, but before he's had a chance to settle on any one idea, she speaks again, with a sigh.

“I wouldn't be at all surprised if she starts bringing people home with her soon, you know?”

He stares, but she just keeps talking.

“Lots of boys on the campus have noticed her. Girls too. Ryuko is very popular, although she doesn't really seem to realise. She's such an idol!” Mako goes starry eyed.

Ryuko doesn't realise, Senketsu thinks. Not at all. Many have been the times she's voiced her concerns about fitting in – to him, when they've been curled up together and she feels safest. Popular? Noticed? Idol?

It shouldn't surprise him, he scolds himself. He knows just how amazing she is. Everyone should appreciate it, really. He just... feels that he should get to be the person who appreciates it the most. 

“What do you think you'll do then, will Senketsu move out?”

Blindsided by the question, Senketsu blinks.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, when Ryuko finds her true love and wants to get married, she won't want a room mate,” Mako says matter of factly, as if saying such things is totally normal.

Senketsu's heart plummets. So much for living in the moment.

“I hadn't thought about that,” he admits. Nor had he expected the hollow feeling her words seem to invoke in him. He's never considered a life without Ryuko by his side in some way. Is this the downside of taking life as it comes? 

Not able to wake up next to her any more? 

Not able to soothe and reassure her until she falls asleep and starts snuffling those little snoring sounds that she won't admit to the next day?

Replaced? No, worse, improved upon?

Mako stands, tossing her trash away without ceremony.

“Come on,” she says, as if she hasn't just broken his world apart with a few well-chosen words, “if we hurry we can get to the fair before it shuts. You want to?”

He doesn't. What he really wants is to go home to Ryuko. He wants to slide into bed next to her and listen to her heart beating. But is that wise? If he's going to have to learn to live without her someday, surely it's better to start learning how to as soon as possible. He's always told himself that he's happy as long as Ryuko is, but he hasn't considered that he would have to be happy for her, from a distance. 

He forces a smile.

“Yes, I want to.” 

**

He enjoys the fair. He actually enjoys Mako enjoying the fair most of all. He stops her buying a sixth cotton candy ball due to a very real fear of imminent vomiting, and follows her round every ride or point of interest she sees. She's a whirlwind. He has a good time.

He can't help feeling that it would have been even better, had Ryuko come along.

Walking Mako home after she's officially overdosed on fun, he decides to ask Ryuko to come with them, if they go again. 

No, he suddenly thinks, he'll just invite Ryuko. If she wants to go, that is. They can go together, just the two of them. He doesn't think Mako will begrudge him that, and the thought makes him stupidly happy, even as he scolds himself for it. So much for weaning himself off of her. Just the once. As friends. It would be nice, he decides. A kind of parting gift, a nice memory for them both.

“Thank you, Mako,” he says as they part ways in front of her home, “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” she yawns, “but hey, seriously, you'd better get out of here before-”

“MAKO! IS THAT YOU?”

“MAKO!”

“DAD, MAKO'S OUT HERE WITH A BOY!”

“OHH, IS HE GOOD LOOKING?”

“MOM!”

She flaps her arms in comedic panic.

“Run and don't look back, I'll hold them off!”

She dashes away from him and into the house, and he hears her voice join the noisy multitude. He smiles as he turns towards home. It must be nice to have a family.

He stops walking and looks up at the stars. He prefers how they look from down here. Up close, they'd been terrifying. He looks away. It's not a pleasant memory.

He does have a family, he realises, as he walks. Mako, Ryuko, the others. Even Satsuki. They had worked hard to reunite him with Ryuko after his experience. He doesn't think he'll ever forget the then-unfamiliar but completely overwhelming sensation of her launching herself into his arms for the first time, holding on tight, and sobbing tears (that she denied the existence of, vehemently, afterwards) into his shirt. Or when he'd awkwardly put his arms around her and she'd let out this little huff of pure satisfaction.

He's pretty sure now that he loves his family, as well as he can understand the word, but he realises with a jolt that what he feels for Ryuko is different, more alive, more aggressive. It worries him, but invigorates and excites him at the same time. He walks faster.

The house is dark when he gets back. He lets himself in as quietly as possible and gets ready for bed, tired out and very aware that Ryuko is probably asleep and warm in the bedroom.

He's conflicted.

Stepping into the room as quietly as possible, he can see the shape of Ryuko, partly under her comforter. He lays down next to her, pulling his own bedclothes up.

He glances over. She's sprawled half out from under her covers, her pyjamas twisted tightly around her body. He swallows. Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and gently strokes her cheek. Her skin is soft and sleep-warm. 

Mako's words echo in his head. Popular. Idol. Ryuko is a woman now, not a child. Not that he had ever really thought of her like that, she'd just been Ryuko, his Ryuko. He has to learn to let her go, and deal with his own issues in his own time.

All right. Enough.

Pulling his hand away, he rolls himself into his comforter firmly.

No more touching. No more. He'll get used to sleeping without her. He won't spend any more mornings waking up tangled together with her and wondering what her skin would taste like on his human body's tongue, wondering what it would be like to kiss her gently until she wakes up and kisses him back. His heart lurches at the thought, one of the many he's been trying to train himself out of.

All thoughts come to an abrupt halt as he feels a questing hand on his shoulder.

“R-Ryuko?” He manages.

She shuffles out from under her covers and shoves under his, tucking herself close against him and effectively derailing his thought process.

He hears her snuffle slightly into his shoulder, and her hand pushes over his stomach, sending his heartbeat into overdrive.

This isn't how it usually goes. She never instigates. Looking more closely at her, he notices that she hasn't opened her eyes. She's still asleep! She'd never actually woken up.

Tentatively, he lifts a hand and places it over where hers is laying, over his shirt. She twitches but doesn't pull away, so he tightens his grip slightly.

He's read it somewhere, but now he really understands. Flesh is weak.

She's moving in her sleep, rolling against him gently. He swallows. Should he try and extricate himself? 

Definitely. 

He begins to try and move away, but the noise she makes stops him dead. It's a whine, ending in a huff. Her fingers tighten in his shirt and there's suddenly no hiding from the meaning behind her actions. 

“Ryuko,” he says urgently. He has to wake her up. He's getting hard in his boxers, and he can't let her know. He has to move away, quickly.

“Senketsu,” she murmurs, and he looks at her in surprise. She's still asleep, but now she's pulling herself close to him again, tucking her head under his chin.

She had said his name.

It doesn't mean anything, he tells himself swiftly. What had been her words? Natural reaction.

She's groaning now, her legs moving where they're pressed against him, one hooking over his ankle.

What is it people say? Oh. Yeah. Shit.

There's no way he can get out of this now, not without enormous embarrassment for both of them.

Recklessly, he considers pulling her in, burying a hand in her hair, pushing their mouths together. Just once. Just once. 

No, he can't. It's wrong. He doesn't want it to be like that.

Heart heavy, he lays a hand on her shoulder and pushes, trying to roll her away. She clings, and he curses silently. He pushes a bit harder and he feels her jerk against his hand. She's waking up.

She blinks at him for a moment before suddenly noticing the position she's in, and throws herself backwards so quickly that she almost kicks him.

There's a few moments of silence. He can see Ryuko clearly, now that his eyes are used to the dimness. 

There's an awful pause, where he can only hear Ryuko's breathing, slowing gradually. Eventually, she speaks.

“I don't think we should do this any more,” she says croakily, and his face falls. It's not like he hadn't just thought the same, but hearing it from her makes it seem more real.

“It's not because I don't think Mako's great,” she groans, rubbing her face, “I know she is, b-but you can't go out on dates with her and then come home and do _this_ with me.”

He's silent, loath to point out that for once, _she_ had instigated their closeness. Besides, he's too busy watching her face colour as she tries so hard to articulate her thoughts. She always finds it a struggle, but she's meeting it head on. She's fighting, always.

Her hair is spilling down her back where she's let it grow long. Her hands are twisting around each other as she attempts to frame her thoughts. 

She's _beautiful_.

And he wants her so badly he can't stand it. It isn't that he doesn't find humans attractive, he suddenly understands, it's that he doesn't find anyone attractive who isn't Ryuko.

He reaches for her automatically, but leaps back when she lashes out.

“NO!” She cries, and the rejection is the single worst feeling he's felt so far. In a human body, the rebuff hurts like a physical blow, his lungs contracting and fingers twitching uselessly.

“I'm the worst, Senketsu,” she says faintly, and he recognises her tone as the one she slips into when she's letting him in on her deepest fears. As far as he knows, he's the only one who's ever heard it. “I act like I know what I'm doing, but I don't. And I hate it!”

He's silent, but he sits up and watches her.

“I spent all evening going out of my mind,” she mutters, miserably. “I didn't even eat. All I could think about is how you're dating now. You'll meet someone and leave. You won't need me any more.”

She slumps.

She thinks he won't need her any more? He's stunned. It's ridiculous. Unthinkable.

“That will never, ever happen,” he says firmly, and she spins around to face him properly.

“But it _should_!” She's wringing her hands now, mindlessly scratching at her wrists, a nervous habit. He's never seen her so vulnerable or raw. “You need to get away from me, go and have your own life. I'm a mess, I'm no good for anyone.”

He moves closer, cautiously.

“You're good for your friends,” he says firmly, and sees her shoulders hunch slightly, “they all love you. And you're good for me. You're perfect for me.”

She stares at him in dumbfounded amazement, a spark of hope suddenly lighting her expression. His mouth suddenly feels dry.

She doesn't think she's a good friend? She doesn't think any one wants her? It's absurd. He wants her. All of her. He wants to wake up beside her every day for as long as he lives. He wants to roll with her, bodies together, like he's imagined. He wants everything.

“Ryuko, I want to kiss you,” he admits roughly, and sees her swallow, her eyes huge.

“Really?” Her voice is a gruff little sound, and he feels a surge of affection for her.

“More than anything,” he says, voice raw, and leans towards her, but then is suddenly borne backwards under her weight as she throws herself into his lap. His body sings with joy.

Never change, Ryuko.

Her mouth is instantly on his, unpractised but greedy, lips sliding and dragging. He groans, pressing his hands to her back, feeling her body, tight against his. It's amazing.

With a hand to her cheek, he calms her, slows her. She's still kissing him, deliriously, her movements becoming less jerky and more deliberate as she figures out how best to move, how best to tease. 

The kiss heats up. He can taste her, and it's better than anything he's imagined. She's frustration, need, energy, joy. She's home. He pauses to breathe, then kisses her back, hard, teasing at her lips the same way he saw the actors in the movie doing. It's probably clumsy as anything, but it doesn't matter. She doesn't care, so neither does he, his tongue touching hers, thrilling them both, as his hands slide over her body greedily.

When she pulls away next, he leans away from her slightly to drop an open mouthed kiss on her collar-bone, tasting her skin. She throws her head back, a groan falling from her lips that seems to heat his blood directly.

Sweat is starting to curl the hair framing her face, and he noses gently at it, earning himself a whimpered sigh. He knows he's making noises too, unconsciously. They seem to excite her as much as hers affect him.

He breathes her in. _Ryuko_. She wants him. It's too much. He suddenly tightens his arms around her, pressing her tighter to him, reassuring himself that she's here, that they're together.

She pulls away, and keeping her gaze fixed on his, even as her face reddens, reaches for the buttons of her top. His fingers twitch, where they've come to rest – on her hips. He tightens his grip slightly, rubbing, to watch her reaction. She groans, her lips parting and head falling slightly to one side, even as she continues to struggle with her clothing.

She laughs, suddenly, but it's not a nice sound. It sounds unhappy.

“This isn't exactly a big deal for you, huh?”

Her words jangle and echo in his head, but he can't make any sense of them, and frowns slightly. What does she mean?

“I mean, it's not like you've not seen me naked before, it's hardly anything new, but... oh shhhhit!” 

She exclaims loudly, body tensing as he drops his mouth purposefully to her neck, leaving a line of nipping kisses up towards her ear. He doesn't want her thinking that.

“Hush,” he says softly, “this is different.” His hand slides up her side and under the top, and she whines. 

“Take it off, please,” he begs, “I want to see you.”

She removes the garment, and turns to face him again. He can see by her expression and red face that she's veering towards self consciousness again, so quickly moves to lay her back against the softness of the comforter, pressing her down with his body and making her purr helplessly and thrust upwards. He grits his teeth. By now, his erection is demanding attention, but it can wait. He wants to do this for her. He's waited long enough, a little more won't matter. 

He covers her body with kisses, tasting all the skin that he can, like he's wanted to for months. He's transported, drunk on her, greedy. It's similar to how he remembers feeling when he synchronised with her, at its most intense. Her heart had beat inside of him. They'd been one. Her soft, urgent noises escalate as he moves lower. He wonders how far she's comfortable with going and pauses, listening to her panting. 

When she's caught her breath, she reaches for him, a hungry sound escaping her, and he leans up and falls into kissing her again, deep and desperate. She's getting more confident, her hands sliding over his body, teasing and pressing. He growls at her, and hears a laugh bubble up from her chest.

He pulls back and gently rubs his nose against hers, earning him a fond, but exasperated and hungry look. She's never looked at him like that before. He likes it, _very_ much.

As he pulls away, she cocks an eyebrow at him and grins, clearly feeling more secure. He laughs, but it quickly becomes a hiss of pleasure as she rolls her body against his, one hand sliding around to push his pelvis against hers. 

All right then.

“That all you got?” She murmurs into his ear, and the words electrify him. She's indomitable. She's gorgeous. She's _his_.

He growls, nudging her with his nose and nipping at her earlobe, making her squeak. On a whim, he grasps at her left hand and brings it to his mouth, moving his lips over the scarring on her wrist there, faint as it is. Her breath catches and he feels her body seize.

“You kinky sonuva-” she starts, then groans again as he leans down and rolls his body against hers again.

“Someone is underestimating me,” he whispers into her ear, relishing the shudder he causes. He likes this, this teasing play they're creating for themselves, just because they want to. This is theirs.

He pulls back, then single mindedly rids himself of his shirt. He catches her watching him, biting at her lip without realising it, her hand coming up to trail down her belly, teasing her own skin. Placing his plan on hold for a second, he leans over her.

“When you do that,” he says roughly, “I feel I've got no choice but to do this.” And he leans in to free her lip from her teeth, licking roughly, savouring the moan she lets out. “So try not to do it when we have company,” he finishes, right by her ear, grinning.

“Asshole,” she pants, laughing.

He chuckles and switches back to his plan, sliding her pyjama pants down and off, and then carefully, gauging her receptiveness, removing her underwear as well. She swallows, rubbing her thighs together, her eyes bright and alert.

“Come here,” he says, before taking her hand and pulling her into a sitting position. What he's about to try, he's seen done, once, during his unfortunate and accidental foray into watching adult television. He's dying to see how she reacts to it. How she reacts to his hands on her, doing this.

He pulls her towards him again, and she moves to straddle his lap, but his hand on her hip stops her.

She makes a confused noise as he gently spins her around so she can sit in his lap, facing away from him.

“I can't kiss you, like this,” she grumbles. He nuzzles her, smiling, but he understands. Kissing her has proven instantly addictive.

“Be patient,” he laughs.

“I never have been, and I ain't starting now,” she shoots back, twisting so she can kiss him. He allows it for a few moments, before pulling back.

He then proceeds to lick and nibble all the soft skin he can reach. His hands slide over her heaving belly and up to tease the underside of her breasts, and he drinks in all the breathless noises and wordless begging sounds she makes at his actions.

Still teasing at her with one hand, he slides the other through the sheen of her sweat that he's responsible for. Her breath catches as she begins to realise what he's planning, and she growls at him, urging him on. His hand moves further down, past her stomach and between her legs.

The effect is electric. Her hand slams back against his shoulder and she cries out - “ _Fuck_! Yes. Come on. _Come on_!”

His breath is becoming harsher and more laboured as her writhing presses her up against him.

Her hand slaps down over his, fingers aligning, and he's gripped with relief. Apparently when it comes to this, she knows what she likes. 

“Show me,” he groans, and then begins to move his hand in time with her motions, swirling, teasing and dipping deeper inside, her wetness slicking their movements. This position is doing great things for him as well. With a gasp, he presses up against her back and buttocks, sliding up and down. His boxers are irritating but he can ignore that. Next time they do this, he decides blearily, he wants to be naked too.

After a few minutes she tears her hand away from his to grab hold of his leg and hang on. She's wailing softly now, her hips jerking erratically. She's so close, but she can't quite get there. He can hear her pants beginning to become huffs of frustration, so he slows his hand, which would have earned him a slap, he's sure, had her hands not been so twitchy and uncooperative. He lines up two fingers instead of one and presses, first gently, then more firmly until he feels the give, the heat. Her breath hitches, and he grabs one of her hands with his free arm, guiding it down.

“Come on,” he murmurs, “you're so close, I know you are. Let's do it together.”

Her fingers slide against where his are pushing in and out of her, and then trail upwards to focus on a particular point.

“Together,” she breathes.

And then?

Wow.

He isn't prepared for her reaction. He's expecting her to be loud, or to buck wildly, but she does neither. He feels her clench down on his hand, and at the same time, she begins to shake, bodily, her free hand coming up to clutch at him weakly. But the best part is the noise she makes: a long, drawn out whimpering cry. Not loud, but deep in her chest and resonant.

He'd done that.

She gasps his name and it's suddenly too much. With a moan he buries his head in her shoulder and thrusts against her, again and again. He lets out a low groan as she twists slowly, languidly, sliding in his lap and rubbing one hand against where he's straining towards her, her movements careful but deliberate. She grips firmly and repeats the motion, her expression focused – and then he's gone, synapses firing, vision whiting out.

When he blinks his eyes open, he's staring at the ceiling, and every nerve in his body is jangling and thudding happily. 

Wow.

He looks to the left, where Ryuko is laying close by, back in her pyjamas. When she sees him looking at her, she leans in to nip gently at his ear, causing him to protest weakly.

“You were out for a minute, there,” she says teasingly. “What's wrong? Did I rock your world or something?”

Her words are confident, but there's spark of concern in her eyes.

“You know you did,” he replies, reaching up to touch her hair. She leans into the touch and he watches as her face lights up.

**

Slipping between the covers a few minutes later, he listens to water running in the bathroom as Ryuko washes. Human sex is very enjoyable, but messy, he thinks. Not that it makes any difference in the long run. He fully intends to do it again. And soon. And often. 

He hears the bathroom light click off, and a second later Ryuko slides under the comforter next to him.

“Sleep well,” he says to her, and she rolls towards him, huffing, a light blush across her nose and cheeks.

“What? You aren't going to kiss me good night?”

He laughs and pull her into his arms, tangling with her and kissing her soundly. She sighs.

“Good night, Ryuko.”


End file.
